


adversus solem ne loquitor

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: dimension 20 [57]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: (mostly implied and offscreen), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Assassination Plot(s), Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, Canon-Typical Violence, Church Politics, Gen, Murder, POV Third Person Omniscient, Politics, Religious Content, Religious Discussion, Run-On Sentences, church hierarchy, i love all of my horrible vegetable catholic ocs so much shut up, not really relevant but this is one of the repercussions of that so, playing fast and loose with big words, so much lore i made up. just so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: Belizabeth Brassica is assassinated, and Lapin gets a new job.
Relationships: Belizabeth Brassica & Original Male Character(s), Lapin Cadbury & Original Character(s)
Series: dimension 20 [57]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706107
Comments: 18
Kudos: 50





	adversus solem ne loquitor

**Author's Note:**

> the title literally means "do not speak against the Sun" and generally means "do not argue what is obviously/manifestly incorrect" and yes i am very pleased with myself why do you ask

It starts, if we’re to pick a date, which, admittedly, given the circumstances of this and other, related events’ beginnings, there isn’t, technically, a beginning at all- just a cycle of events that are the cause of each other in a ouroboric line of dominoes.

But. If we’re to pick a beginning for this particular thread of events, a good enough one as any is the death of Hierophant Dominus Radicchio Savoy.

Radicchio himself is not very important in the grand scheme of things. He is a minor Vegetanian noble who was promised to the clergy as a young man and who continued through his theological education with the rare motivation of true belief.

He rises, perhaps more quickly than average, but not especially quickly, through the ranks of the Bulbian Church, until he becomes Hierophant Dominus, second in authority to the Hierophant Rex and third below the Pontifex. Our dear beginning Radicchio is of the three highest religious authorities of the church, and the foremost interpreter of the Bulb’s will.

Even after achieving such an impressive rank and all the power that comes with it, Radicchio’s faith doesn't waver. He studies the Bulb’s movements with an almost fervent dedication, precisely notating his observations at every turn, and his near-fluent understanding of Ancient Bulbosi is a point of pride.

His rank is the first of three important things about Radicchio Savoy. The second is his belief that the burning- and, in general, execution- of heretics by the Bulbian Church is an abominable and outdated practice.

He is not the first clergy member of the Church to hold this belief, and in fact isn’t the last. But he _is_ the Hierophant Dominus, and the only two people whose theological writings have more weight than his are the Hierophant Rex and the Pontifex themselves.

So, when the Hierophant Dominus, a good, faithful, kind, and true man begins to guide his global flock down the path of understanding and compassion and even _acceptance_ of blatant heresy, well.

Radicchio Savoy is found dead, having passed peacefully into the embrace of the Bulb in his sleep, two and a half years after his first proclamation of compassion, and six months after the third important thing about Radicchio became extant: the ascendance of one Belizabeth Brassica to the position of Hierophant Rex.

You see, the third most important thing about Radicchio Savoy is that he was in Belizabeth Brassica’s way.

 _His death is the most tragic of losses_ , she will say, standing in the great cathedral in Brightgarden. _Truly, the Bulb’s light is cooler with the absence of our great guide. I know that no one will ever be able to truly replace him, and out of respect for his legacy, I swear, that until the proper respects have been paid, I shall not even try. May he rest in the Bulb’s light, and may we all live in accordance of the ways writ for us so that we may one day as well._

Belizabeth Brassica, of course, didn’t kill Radicchio Savoy herself. That doesn’t mean her hands aren’t still wet with his blood.

For three years after the death of the far-beloved Radicchio, the position of Hierophant Dominus will remain unfilled, until the good and faithful Hierophant Rex Belizabeth Brassica pronounces the role to no longer have any use, and retires the title in the name of Hierophant Dominus Savoy’s legacy.

This will be met with discontent among the clergy, but three years is a long time, and Belizabeth Brassica was almost- almost; because anything more than almost was almost but not quite blasphemy- as revered as the Pontifex, and to come out against a policy of _hers_ was not... dangerous; the Bulb welcomes discussion, after all- but... unwise.

The Primogens and Bishops and Hierophants who possessed unique opinions held hushed discussions, and decided to be wise.

Two more years pass and it’s Duskshade of the Year of our Bulb 1192, and whispers begin to circulate that Pontifex Mesclun Rauffe is considering retirement. 

_Is it true?_ ask the Bishops eying the position of Archbishop. 

_Well, it would make sense_ , mutter the Archbishops looking to become Primogens. 

_Of course, the Pontifex would know what is best for the church, and if his abdication is such..._ , the Primogens hoping to be selected as Hierophants muse. 

The exit of a Pontifex is commonly the beginning of a transitional period for the church. 

Never mind that in Highharvest of the Year of our Bulb 1191, Mesclun Rauffe was heartily celebrating his eighty-third birthday and not looking to slow down anytime soon. 

By mid-1192, half the clergy is convinced that retirement is imminent, and the belief has traveled so far through the church that retirement is near an inevitability, if only to avoid the appearance of clinging to power. Or, it would be, for a man less stubborn than Mesclun Rauffe. After all, he didn’t reach his current position by allowing rumor to rule his actions.

Unfortunate for him, then, that before he could put an end to the rumors, he passed away gently in his sleep. The sixth day of Dawnbright is declared a day of mourning, and by the next sunrise, Mesclun Rauffe is canonized all but officially. 

The naming of the next Pontifex is a long and drawn out affair. Six months of _discussion_ (squabbling, infighting, and downright filthy politicking) and Belizabeth Brassica emerges as the foremost candidate. 

Never mind her current title- once she has been named Pontifex, she will appoint a successor to the seat of the Hierophant Rex, and in the interim, she is more than capable of handling both positions. 

In another timeline, Hierophant Rex Belizabeth Brassica becomes Pontifex Belizabeth Brassica, Hierophant Rex of the Bulbian church, and she will go on to do and to cause a great many things, mostly tragedies. 

But this is not another timeline it is _this_ one, and so when Hierophant Rex, not-yet-named-Pontifex Belizabeth Brassica stands in the Cathedral of Saint Arugula, tall and proud and eager to wear the mantle of Pontifex, she will not.

Instead, as the mitre is lowered to her head, an arrow will pierce her chest, and then her eyes, and then her throat, and Belizabeth Brassica crumple to the marble floor and breathe her last breath.

The imperial guards and the holy paladins will give chase like the Hungry One itself is on their tails, and the laughing murderer will escape anyway, and he’ll leave in his absence a body and a disastrous power vacuum. 

The power vacuum, in this case, is disastrous not only because of the violent nature of Brassica’s death that will strike fear into the hearts of any sensible clergy members who might otherwise perhaps consider taking her seat, but because the usual successor in times of violent upheaval is the Hierophant Rex. 

In past eras, the Pontifex would either ascend from a different position, in which case the matter of successor is already taken care of, or they would willingly shed the title of Hierophant Rex in a show of humility, giving the position to the Hierophant Dominus, who, of course, would have a candidate in mind for their position already. 

But in the current era, the Pontifex who is dead is also the Hierophant Rex who is dead, and the Hierophant Dominus is not only dead but the title has been formally retired and as such there is no appointee qualified for that position let alone the position of Pontifex, and if you asked one of the panicking upper echelons of the Bulbian Church why they don’t have more than three set positions in case the Pontifex passes unexpectedly into the warm embrace of the Bulb, they would likely shout at you for bothering them before explaining, panicked, that they’ve never needed more than three before!

Perhaps you might then ask, well that seems unlikely given how history usually goes, and they would probably respond by frowning at you in a way that is less effective than it might have been if there weren’t such naked panic in their eyes, and then you might ask, well, why didn’t anyone have a plan for this, seeing as they would have needed one anyway once Pontifex and Hierophant Rex Brassica passed into the Bulb’s warm embrace? 

They would then likely answer you, slightly shamefaced, with, we would have figured out such petty issues after the Pontifex had been formally appointed, and you might respond, well, that seems a little short-sighted now, doesn’t it? To which they would respond with a yell borne from stress and panic that they are _quite_ aware of that now, yes!

All of this to say, that at the time of the decision that ended up being made and that was, to put it mildly, a ripple in the waters of Candian and Vegetanian religious politics, not even getting into its effects on the war more broadly which at this point has become, to put it mildly, a clusterfuck, the people who were responsible for the decision were, among other things: 

In desperate need of a solution, quickly;

Doing their level best to hide their panic from the masses of the church and doing a rather poor job of it; 

And willing, at this point, to make whatever justifications necessary for whatever solution presented itself. 

So, when an up and coming Candian miracle worker named Lapin Cadbury arrives at a church conference that had been described as _a gathering to discuss the formal leadership of this good and Holy church_ in Comida late in the month of Duskshade in the Year of our Bulb 1193 in the hopes he can meet with some of the more powerful members of the church to more confidently assure his place so as to fulfill the wish he owes, it is not as a mildly interesting but not _dangerously_ interesting Primogen. 

It is instead, as a shining beacon of hope to the panicking, desperate echelons of the Bulbian Church’s current highest authority. 

To his surprise (and very, very well hidden fear and irritation) when he makes the perfunctory greetings to Hierophant Rames Sorrel and Primogen Dijon Atterberry, they don’t merely shake his paw and move away. Instead they clasp his arm tighter and pull him into conversation. 

_Forty decades of service in the Church!_ they exclaim, and the looks in their eyes are too close to that of a hungry creature’s for Lapin’s comfort, but instead of sprinting in the opposite direction, he bows his head and says _I only wish it could have been more_ , and the looks, unfortunately, do not go away. 

They ask about his chapel at Castle Candy and they ask about his sermons and they poke and prod for details and Lapin begins to wonder if somehow, _somehow_ they’ve found out and this is their way of hoping he’ll trip up and reveal himself, but as he weaves his story the light in their eyes only shines brighter, until Hierophant Maxibel Snap takes his arm and leads their group into a small alcove and asks Lapin, _are you, before everything, a Bulbian? Or a Candian?_

Lapin answers the only answer there is when you are not only a member of the nation your church’s nation of origin is technically at war against but _also_ a blaspheming heretic decades into an infiltration of that church to which you don’t _actually_ belong to who is standing alone in a room with the most holy people and most powerful members of that church: _I am, of course, a follower of the Bulb above all else._

Later, after many things have happened, most of which are, arguably, better for the world, and also arguably, worse for Lapin himself, he will frequently wish he’d given the opposite answer, despite the disaster it would have wrought upon him. At least you can thunderstep away from that kind of disaster. Or, all else failing, death is always a clean way out of any problem.

Instead, as the sentence settles into the anticipatory air of the room, all five of the most powerful people in the Bulbian Church smile in unison at Lapin like he is the Bulb above, and several things are told to him.

Primogen Cauleen Meristem explains that the church cannot go on without a leader for much longer, or the infighting and uncertainty will start to spread. 

Hierophant Cerise Parsnip will tell him that none of them can take the position, and that they are needed where they are to manage the lingering effects of this trouble. 

Hierophant Rames Sorrel will explain that it’s better that the Pontifex is a miracle worker, that the miraculous powers he wields are proof that the Bulb believes him deserving.

Primogen Dijon Atterberry will take Lapin’s utter shock at what is being proposed as an agreement, and assure him, with a pat on the back, that the ceremony will take only a few days to arrange. 

This is how Lapin Cadbury enters the _gathering to discuss the formal leadership of this good and Holy church_ a Candian Primogen titled only for his miracles and looked down upon as much as he is awed for it, and leaves the first Candian presumptive Pontifex in the Good and Holy Bulbian Church’s history.

It is, all in all, one hell of a conference. 

Word of the appointment begins to spread before the conference is even over, because as we all know, there are no bigger gossips than holy people, and the announcement of Chancellor Lapin Cadbury’s imminent ascendence to the most Holy of thrones comes the next day. 

There is resistance to the idea of a Candian leading the Church- paladins in Brightgarden grumble about the Candian habit of _alchemy_ until they’re prodded in the side by more politically minded bishops who remind them, in a tone that speaks differently than their words, that things left unsaid don’t start wars, and that, frankly, one war is enough. 

Fructeran nobles titter about the scandal of it all and many of them start designs to woo the new leader- the lack of previous acquaintanceship is frustrating, but the alliance between Candia and Fructera is helpful, at least. 

To say that the Ceresians have any sort of reaction would imply that all of Ceresia has ever had even a vaguely collective opinion about anything, but the people who make the decisions decide that this is a decision not to be fought, and some of them even wonder if the change is a sign of things to come. 

So, after all of this, as the Archmage Lazuli of Candia plots and Sir Theobald Gumbar of Candia sloshes his way through the Dairy Islands and Lord Gustavo Uvano of Fructera continues crossing names off his list and Lady Victoria Uvano continues her hostile takeover of Fructera and Princess Sapphria Rocks charms her way through the Meatlands, Lapin Cadbury is named Pontifex and Hierophant Rex of the Bulbian Church. 

His only thought as the mitre is placed on his head is, _oh no_.

**Author's Note:**

> lapin can't believe this is his fucking life but also. the sugar plum fairy now has to drastically change her plans because lapin is pretty stuck in vegetania/fructera for AT LEAST several years. boy has a church to run. and you know what? he could get used to having a foolproof excuse to tell the fairy to fuck off and he's gonna be feeding off the irony of this one for a WHILE  
> also i created a whole new bulbian doctrine and it barely came up in this fic so. let me introduce you to radicchism, a creed that mostly differs from traditionally accepted vegetanian bulbianism (not a fucking sentence i thought i'd ever write) in that it's followers don't believe that heresy should be met with violence or execution.  
> created by an actually pretty chill old dude named radicchio savoy, it mostly preaches that all people will, in the absence of committing any of the mortal sins or actively choosing to worship the hungry one, go to the bulb when they die anyway, and that the bulb is by it's nature a kind and compassionate god who would want it's followers to treat everyone with compassion.  
> basically it's a guy going, Hey, Maybe it's Okay To Have Neighbors Who Pray To Spirits That Aren't The Bulb, So Long As They Aren't Praying To The Hungry One Or You Know, Murdering People. Let's Stop Burning People At The Stake For Being Witches Too, While We're At It, Because That's Lead To Some Pretty Bad Shit and a not inconsiderate number of people going, huh. yeah. i think that guy has a point actually.  
> (and then that guy got assassinated by the 'kill all the unhealthy people with a holy war' lady and well. aren't we glad this is the good timeline)


End file.
